Monsters, Inc Chronicles
by RantyRandy
Summary: Monsters, Inc. had become a huge behemoth following the discovery of laughter as a source of energy, but when its future becomes unclear, its two executives struggle to fight competitors in a business war to keep the company afloat. NEWSFLASH: Sorry for taking so long to upload second chapter, but I have an exam to prepare for on Monday. I will update the story after the exam. THX!


"_Hey, good morning Montropolis! It's now five after the hour of six AM in the big monster city. The temperature's a nice seventy-three degrees and it looks like today's gonna be a perfect day to have a picnic outside – if you're into this kind of thing – cause it's gonna be sunny all the way! And now, Lucille Fearmonger with the news report…"_

The radio kept droning as the big blue monster lied uninterested in his bed, eyelids pressed together in a futile attempt to block out the annoying blabbering of the girl delivering her news report over the waves. After a while, his paw slid of the pillow and pressed the snooze button. "Dang!" Sulley barked in puny anger since he'd intended to turn the alarm off and not to snooze it. "This happens _every_ time," he noted aloud, remembering almost instantly that there was no one to hear him.

It had been seven months since Mike and Celia moved together to a new house – or rather, a mansion – that Mike had bought shortly after Monsters, Inc.'s sudden comeback. Sulley's home now was nothing like the near-dorm messy dwellings of other single guys in their early thirties, nor was it like a penthouse of your average big-company's CEO. Over the past months, it had become surprisingly barren: it looked like an apartment of an old widower who likes to keep everything in neat order, but tries to "live" (not live) in it as little as possible to avoid mess. In other words, it was tidy, but telling how much time had passed since the tidying.

Sulley slowly arose on bed to sit on its edge, waiting a few minutes for the jadedness to wear off before getting up to his feet, and then falling down to the floor for a few dozen push-ups… As hard as it was without the ever-coaching Mike, Sulley kept his morning workout routine in place. It was the only activity he'd get in a day and it showed: He was a bit overweight – not by much, but enough for everyone to notice – and the formerly no-sweat exercise had been giving him an increasingly hard time recently. Later – as he was brushing his teeth with the pace of a snail recovering from a major heart surgery – he was gasping for air, desperately waiting for the fatigue to wear off before stinking up with a fancy _eau de fetor. _He was a co-CEO, after all, and the board of directors was about to gather in less than forty minutes.

Struggling with his tie as he was rushing out of the door, he almost collided with a neighbor from next door who gave him a nasty look. "Three years ago, she'd smile and say, 'It's nothing!'" Sulley thought to himself. He felt like money had not changed him a little bit, but it changed others, especially his not-so-rich neighbors, in how they treated him. As he was getting on the elevator to go downstairs, he couldn't let go of the notion that not moving out from this blue-collar neighborhood in the first place was a mistake; but then again, he thought, moving to a snobby neighborhood like the one Mike had moved to would probably be worse.

Already on the street, he realized he was running late for the meeting and hailed a taxi instead of walking to work like he would on any other day. The inside of the cab smelled like a morning after a wild bachelor party, and the driver whose English he could barely understand over his strong accent was trying to engage in small-talk about running a business in a conspicuous effort to secure a fat tip from the rich guy. Sulley wasn't completely novice to these practices as he had been a scaring celebrity before, but it felt different this time. It had been yet another reminder that he was no longer one of "them" ordinary people. The realization, had he had more time to contemplate on it, would have probably made him feel depressed, but the ringing of his cellphone cut the thought short.

"Hello?" he answered feebly.

"Where are you?" Mike's voice roared through the speaker.

"Good morning to you, too…" Sulley groused in response.

"Ha-ha-ha, mister funny," Mike laughed sarcastically, "the meeting is about to get started. Please, tell me you're not _walking_ to work again…"

"No, I'm in a cab right now. On my way," Sulley explained.

"Great to know you still ignore the fleet of limos our company has," responded Mike with a snide comment.

"I've told you it was a waste of money. We never needed any-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, big boy, just make it here quick," Mike interrupted him and hung up.

He had been like this ever since he moved in with Celia, Sulley thought. Not that he would ever think Celia had a bad influence on Mike; instead, he felt Celia was too meek to constrain Mike's natural abrasive nature, and the lack of restraint kept making Mike continuously more unbearable to anyone but select few.

After a brief attempt at arguing with the not-so-language-fluent driver over change at their destination, Sulley opted to save time over money and let the driver keep the change from a rather large bill, which translated to a very generous tip the guy likely didn't deserve. Mike was already waiting at the gate, tapping his foot nervously.

"I can't believe J.G. had us gathered here at seven. The old farts are gonna be asleep!" Mike shouted at Sulley from afar.

Sulley passed the opportunity to remind Mike of forgetting to greet him again that day, choosing instead to defend Jeoffrey "J.G." Gross (who was in fact a new CIO they had hired a mere month ago), "He's just doing the job we hired him for, Mike."

"Perhaps he's being a bit _too _diligent? Who on Earth calls at nine PM to have a board meeting the following morning?" Mike wondered in an overly dramatic way as they walked into the lobby.

"Someone who still works at nine PM, which is fine with me," Sulley insinuated, hinting at Mike's questionable work schedule.

"Yeah… Anyway, I hope it doesn't take long, I have a barber appointment in an hour."

"But you have no hair…" Sulley wondered, putting on a face of utter disbelief.

"Horns! I have to get my horns polished. Some executives actually care about their looks, you know," Mike remarked, "and don't smell like a mix of booze and cigarettes," he added.

"Oh, boy… It's the cab," Sulley noted as he sniffed his arm.

"Another case for the limo fleet…" Mike said with a grin.

"Gimme a break, Mike," Sulley griped. As he passed the information desk, he noticed a new stressed and confused-looking female monster sitting on Celia's chair. "Who's that?" he queried, and looked at Mike, all puzzled.

"A replacement," Mike answered proudly.

"For Celia?" Sulley's started becoming bewildered.

"Yep," replied Mike, still smirking proudly.

"What happened to Celia?!" Sulley wanted to know desperately.

"She's been promoted. She is now the head of PR department," Mike rejoined.

"What? We-… We have a PR department? Since when?!" Sulley exclaimed, now totally perplexed.

"Since yesterday. I think her talents warrant it," Mike uttered, knowing that Sulley would likely not approve this lightly.

"You can't promote friends and family on a whim, Mike, it's bad for the company!" Sulley raised his voice, perhaps more that he himself had intended.

Mike suddenly stopped, stood on his toes in a vain attempt to appear taller, raised his finger and asked angrily, "Are you saying that Schmoopsie-poo can't handle it?"

"I'm saying we don't need a PR department!" Sulley tried to calm him down.

"We _wouldn't_ need it… But remember, PR his how we _have_ to sway customers now!" Mike grumbled as they both stopped in front of a big meeting room door.

"I don't want to hear that patent talk from you again, Mike. It was the right decision and you know it," Sulley insisted, replying to Mike's unspoken jab at his past action.

Mike responded with a frown and gestured Sulley to open the big door. Sulley quickly brushed the fur on his arms and chest with his paws (probably in order to get most of the cab smell out of his fur), and proceeded to push the door open. As it opened, it revealed a dozen monsters sitting bored at a humongous conference table, presided by a lean bright red frizzy monster with thick glasses magnifying his three witty-looking eyes. The monster turned his head at the incoming duo, and nodded with an uneasy smile, "Hello, gentlemen. Shall we get started?"


End file.
